A Year in the Life
by Psamathe
Summary: Sam's life during that missing year. Spoilers for Continuum. Sam/Jack
1. Chapter 1

The city was divided by a river. As she stared at the buildings on the far side, Samantha Carter couldn't quite dispel her sense of despair. Even crossing a body of water seemed beyond her right now. She was so, so tired. The walk through the Arctic wasteland, the days of interrogation had taken their toll, and for what? Her life, her world was gone. And there was no way she was going to be allowed to get it back. Perhaps that was what was bothering her the most. They wouldn't even let her try to put it right... to give the human race a fighting chance when the Goa'uld eventually showed up.

Sam felt like she had died the moment Ba'al had stuck his knife into Jack.

Jack... in this universe, he didn't even know her. He was busy playing happy families with Charlie and Sara. A Colonel, he was still able to do the field work that he loved and Sam should have been pleased for him. Would have been if he hadn't looked at her like she was some kind of freak. Sam had found his lack of faith profoundly disturbing. This O'Neill was a closed minded as they came... nothing more than a jar-head, she admitted to herself.

The apartment the government had provided for her wasn't her taste at all. Beige, was her immediate first impression. Whoever had been responsible for the interior design was obviously a person of little imagination. There were no bookshelves. Sitting on the beige couch resting on the beige carpet in the beige living room, Sam found herself wanting to curl up in a corner and cry. Bad enough to be stuck here, bad enough that she was supposed to be dead but the government had deftly taken away everything that meant a damn to her. There was nothing left of Samantha Carter.

Sam spent the first night on the couch and slept in her clothes. It seemed easier that way. If she didn't sleep in the bed then she could still make believe that this was a temporary arrangement. However, waking with a stiff neck and an aching back was enough to convince her of the reality of her situation. At that moment that she almost caved and called Daniel. But Sam knew that, if she were to disobey orders, she would have to have a damn good reason for it and not just the desire to see a familiar face. Besides, the powers that be would be watching her closely, especially during these first few weeks. Sam felt trapped here but she knew it was nothing compared to military prison. Even though she was technically dead, she knew that the courts would find some way to charge her. She was a national security risk.

Looking at the small bag that contained all of her worldly goods, Sam wondered if she should unpack. A half dozen pairs of underwear, two pairs of pants, five t-shirts and a toothbrush. Paranoia had left her bereft of anything of her past life. They hadn't even let her keep her BDUs... the probably thought she had some kind of nuclear reactor sewn into the lining. Reluctantly, she opened the bag and pulled out the details of the new identity that she had been given.

Tiffany Randall... someone, somewhere was having far too much fun at her expense. Drivers licence, credit card, bank account ... 'Tiffany' had more than enough money to live on. Probably a good thing since Sam was forbidden from taking a job in her chosen field. Without any qualifications, she'd probably have to wait tables.

"Hello, my name is Tiffany, how can I be of service?" Sam said to the empty room.

It wasn't enough that she had been handed a comfortable life. Without conflict, without challenge, Sam knew that she'd go stir crazy within a month. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, Sam was assuaged with guilt. At least she still had her health. She couldn't imagine how Daniel was coping without any friends to help him out. Part of her hoped that Teal'c and Vala were out there somewhere. Perhaps they could find a way to change all of this.

Sam still couldn't work out quite why so much had changed. Jack's son, General Landry's wife... she understood causality better than most but she had tried and failed to find the link between those particular events and the Stargate. She could only imagine that the alien artefact had touched their lives in ways that no one could imagine.

With a sigh, Sam pushed herself up off of the couch. She had no choice but to get used to this. Stripping off her rumpled clothes, she headed towards the shower.


	2. Chapter 2

ONE MONTH LATER

"Hey Tiff!"

The shortened form of her name was a marginal improvement but Sam still found herself grinding her teeth every time she heard it.

"Tiff!"

Sliding herself out from under the jeep that she was working on Sam, stood up to answer her boss' call.

Ned Andrews was a good man who had built up his auto repair business from the ground up. In his late fifties, he had a soft spot for hard luck cases and had offered Sam a job as soon as he realised that she knew her way around an engine. So it wasn't exactly rocket science, but it provided welcome extra cash. And Ned wasn't one to ask too many questions. If he'd noticed her resemblance to a certain dead astronaut, he hadn't thought it worth mentioning.

"Look after the desk for me," Ned said as he ambled past.

Since the man seemed to live on cigarettes and coffee, Sam assumed that he was going to get one or the other. Wiping her hands on a rag she headed towards the small office at the front of the workshop. The day had been unusually quiet. Ned's place was well known in the neighbourhood. He didn't screw his customers and his mechanics were first rate. On a normal day the phone seemed to ring every ten minutes and Sam suspected that many of his customers were taking advantage of the free service offered by one of his competitors, but Ned didn't seem worried. He was secure in the knowledge that, sooner or later, his regulars would come crawling back

Spying a pack of Oreos on the counter, Sam helped herself to a couple before seating herself in the battered office chair. Like everything else here, it was covered in a thin layer of oil, but given the state of her overalls it didn't really matter. Leaning back, she propped her feet up on the counter... this wasn't the SGC but somehow she felt at home.

The sound of a tow truck drawing up outside interrupted her moment of contentment and sighing to herself, Sam rose to greet the slightly panicked young man who was accompanying the vehicle.

"You gotta help me," were his first words as he burst through the door.

"What seems to be the problem?" Sam asked, tucking as strand of her hair underneath her cap.

She still found herself getting nervous when meeting strangers. Sometimes she noticed people staring at her as she walked down the street and it was enough to make her paranoid. Working here, a baseball cap and a dirty face was all the disguise she needed.

"It broke!" the boy exclaimed.

The kid couldn't have been more than sixteen, barely old enough to have his licence. At least, Sam assumed he was legally able to drive although judging by his panicked expression she had to wonder. Tall, skinny,with messy blonde hair that almost reached his shoulders he had the look of someone who was outgrowing his strength.

"Slow down," she tried to reassure him, "tell me exactly what happened."

"Dad's car... stick shift..."

Were the only words that seemed to make any kind of sense, but it was enough for Sam to get an idea of what might be wrong. During her teenage years, her Dad had refused to let her drive anything other than the crappiest of cars. She had hated him for it at the time, however the experience had left her with a fair diagnostic ability. That and the many hours she'd spent repairing the damn things.

"Okay... okay... sounds like we can fix it," she said.

"Today? Can you do it today? My dad's back tonight and he'll freak if he finds out that I was driving his car."

Sam felt sorry for the boy and she could understand his need to get the vehicle fixed and back home. She just hoped that his dad wasn't the kind to have made a note of the mileage otherwise the kid would likely find himself in a Ferris Bueller situation. Seeing Ned heading back from his cigarette break Sam signalled to her boss that she was going to take care of their newest customer.

"You want to wait?" she offered.

The problem turned out to be the clutch cable. A simple enough job, but as Sam started to work she couldn't help thinking that the kid was looking at her a little strangely. She found herself feeling self-concious such was the intensity of his gaze. The overalls and the thick rimmed glasses didn't present a particularly attractive picture so Sam didn't think that she was the object of some sudden teen crush. However, she figured that the boy was a big enough fan of the space program to look beneath the dirt on her face. As she finished up, Sam knew that she had to disabuse him of that notion as quickly as possible.

"I get this a lot," she told him. "I've never been launched in a Space Shuttle."

Which was technically true. When she'd boarded the Shuttle Endeavour after saving Earth from Apophis' mothership it had already been in orbit.

"What?" the kid asked, seemingly confused by her non sequitur.

"I'm not who you think I am... I know I look like her and...," she went on.

"No. I mean it's just..."

"Just what?"

"You remind me of my mom. She died."

"I'm sorry."

The boy turned away from her, but not before Sam saw his face crumple, as if he were fighting tears. Wisely, she chose not to notice. It was only after he'd left that she started to think about the other Samantha Carter. Despite the obvious temptation, Sam had studiously avoided anything to do with the other woman, but now she found herself wondering. Without the Stargate program there was no knowing what direction her life would have taken. Okay, so becoming an astronaut wasn't too far away from the goals she'd had as a child, but what about the rest of it? Family? Friends? Children? She shook her head. Samantha Carter was dead and there was nothing to be gained by raking through her past. The woman had died in the line of duty and should be allowed to rest in peace.

Finished for the day, Sam cleaned herself up and headed for the door. It was only on her way out as she glanced across the desk that she noticed the credit card slip. Signed in a round hand, she had no trouble reading the signature...

... C. O'Neill.


	3. Chapter 3

"Charlie?" Jack O'Neill called out as he tossed his uniform jacket in one corner and his briefcase in the other.

The lack of an immediate answer wasn't unusual but it still gave Jack cause for concern. Charlie had been dead set against their latest move and had spent the last six weeks glowering at his father in mute rebellion. Having to make his son switch schools mid-semester hadn't exactly filled Jack with joy either but when the Airforce called...

"Charlie!" Jack called again as he negotiated the boxes that still littered the family room.

Sometimes it felt like they'd spent their whole lives packing and unpacking... a year here, two years there. It was one of the reasons that Jack had let himself get talked into taking his new position and the promotion that went along with it, he was hoping to give Charlie a little more stability, at least until the kid was finished with high school and packed off to college. The unspoken reasons, he suspected, were far more complex. No one, but no one had ever expected Jack O'Neill to make General. He was a field officer and a damn good one. The kind of guy who was wasted behind a desk... but that was where he now found himself.

Jack had fully expected his next move to be a long and happy retirement. Yet his superiors obviously felt differently. It seemed like one minute he had been talking to the three geeks on the sub in the Arctic and the next he'd been told to pack his bags. Jack wasn't dumb, he knew the two had to be related. Even though he'd been very vocal with regards to Mitchell, Jackson and Carter it was obvious that someone had thought that he might be tempted to help them carry out some wacko plan. As he discarded his necktie, Jack found himself wondering what had happened to them.

"Charlie!"

The third shout brought a response and Jack heard the muffled thump of footsteps on the stairs.

"You got a girl up there or something?" Jack joked as his son finally appeared.

As usual his attempt at humour fell flat. The only response Charlie deigned to give him was a contemptuous glare.

"I thought we'd get pizza. What do you want on it?"

Charlie just shrugged causing Jack to close his eyes for a second and fight the urge to get angry. The kid would get used to the new place... he always did. Even though Jack knew that Charlie usually settled down and made friends easily, he had to wonder if this time would be different. The last couple of weeks had been rough... ever since Charlie had taken the car. That had been a damn fool stunt to impress his new classmates. Jack had never raised a hand to his son, but he admitted that he'd been sorely tempted that day. The only thing that had stopped him was the fact that Charlie had tried to put right his mistake.

Sooner or later Jack knew that they would have to sit down for a long talk, but he just couldn't face it at that moment. He hoped that this particular mood was caused by nothing more than the fact that Charlie still missed his mom.

They both did.

Somehow the pain didn't get any less. Sure, there were times when Jack let himself forget. Sometimes he pushed the events of that terrible day so far back in his mind that he threatened his own sanity but it always came back to haunt. The loss was profound. Even here, hundreds of miles away from any place they had ever lived, he could still feel her presence. He'd find himself walking down the street and catching a glimpse of blonde hair. His logical mind told him that it couldn't possibly be his wife, but he always stopped to check. If Charlie felt that too then Jack could forgive his son the sullen spells.

"How was school?" Jack asked.

This time Charlie responded with an unintelligible mumble.

"Okaaaaay," Jack breathed realising that this was probably the best he was going to get. "Forget conversation I'll get the pizza."

The light on the answer-phone was flashing and Jack pressed play before hitting the speed dial.

"Hi Jack," a woman's voice echoed from the speaker, "it's Kerry Johnson, I don't know if you remember, but we met in Washington a couple of weeks back? Uh... anyway, I'm in town for a few days and I wondered if you wanted to get a drink. I'm staying at the Radisson... so... if you want... call me."

Kerry Johnson? He recalled the name but had trouble with the face? There had been a red-head that had been hanging around him in the hotel bar one night but he had no memory of handing over his phone number. She'd been attractive enough, he supposed but...

Crap...

One look at his son's face was enough to tell Jack that Charlie had heard the message. Jack had no idea what to say. On the one hand he had no intention of meeting this Kerry person but on the other... It was conceivable that one day, maybe in the not too distant future he would meet someone and Charlie would have to accept that.

"Your Mom's been gone a long time..." Jack began, fumbling to find the right words.

"Not that long!" the boy shouted back.

"She wouldn't have wanted..."

"How do you know what Mom would have wanted?"

"C'mon Charlie, that's not fair."

"You let her go and she died!"

Charlie's words weren't making much sense, but Jack found himself unable to do anything but stand there whilst his son shouted abuse. Nothing hurt worse than the truth. Jack could have stopped her, but he hadn't... There hadn't been a reason to. No one could have anticipated that things could have gone so, so wrong.

"I didn't know," was all he managed to say as Charlie slammed the front door.


	4. Chapter 4

She'd seen him hanging around the garage.

Sometimes he just walked past, sometimes he pretended to drink coffee in the shop opposite. She didn't know why he came or what he wanted, but Sam found herself cursing whatever government screw up had landed her in the same town as family O'Neill. Okay, so it was a common surname but Charlie... Sam assumed that was his name although it could have easily been Carl or Caleb... Aside from the blonde hair, Charlie was the spitting image of a young Jack. Fate had truly been unkind to her. The guys she worked with teased her mercilessly about Charlie. Even Ned was prone to make quiet comment about her 'stalker'. Sam did not enlighten them as to the real reason behind the boy's obsession.

She felt sorry for the kid, she really did. Whatever had happened to Sara, it had obviously left it's mark on the boy and it wouldn't help that his dad was away so much. Sam knew that much from personal experience... she had been about the same age when her mother died. What Sam couldn't understand was why Charlie seemed to have latched onto her. She knew that she bore a passing physical resemblance to Sara. The two women had only met once but Sam had liked Jack's ex-wife. If it weren't for tragic circumstances then Jack and Sara would never have divorced. Just seeing photos of the two of them had been enough to convince Sam of that. They had been good together.

Sam couldn't help wonder how Jack was dealing with his wife's death. She wished that she had the right to go to him and find out.

Charlie wasn't coping. That much was clear when she found him sitting outside the garage one night. Sam had been left to lock up and the last thing she expected was to see the boy and his backpack waiting for her. She wanted to walk past, to ignore him and let him sort himself out, but she couldn't... she just couldn't.

"Hey," she said, sitting down beside him. "You okay?"

He shook his head. Realising that Charlie didn't seem inclined to speak, Sam wondered what she was going to do with him. It was getting late and she couldn't just leave him here. She knew that, if she sent him home, he wouldn't go. Jack had lost his wife and Sam wasn't about to let him lose his son as well.

"Where's your Dad?" she asked.

"On a date."

It was obvious that Charlie didn't like the idea of his Dad seeing other people. Sam had to admit that she wasn't overly keen on the idea either, but she didn't hold any sway over Jack... not in this reality.

"Come on," she told the boy.

Her apartment was within walking distance and Charlie followed along behind like a lost puppy. Sam was thinking fast, wondering how she could let Jack know that his son was safe. A quick anonymous phone call was the best that she could come up with. Then she would set herself the task of persuading the boy that he should go home.

Sam had tried to make the apartment a little more pleasant during the weeks that she had been there. The overwhelming beigeness had been broken up with some bright throws and cushions. She had put a few pictures on the walls and built some bookshelves, but the place still felt like it belonged to someone else. There was nothing personal here. No photos, no old books, nothing that didn't look like it came from Ikea.

"Take a seat," she told Charlie.

He perched on the couch, looking for all the world as if he regretted his decision to be there. Sam noticed that he had something clutched in his fingers; a photograph. Creased and well worn, he held it as if it were his most cherished possession.

"Do you want anything?" she offered. "I have Coke? It's diet, but I like the taste better."

"So did Mom," he replied.

"Is that her?" Sam asked, gesturing towards the battered photo, hoping that he'd let her look at it. He hesitated before handing it over.

It was a happy picture. Bright blue Florida sky, three people with their arms wrapped so tightly about each other that it looked as if they would stay that way forever... and in the background a Space Shuttle, resting on it's launch pad.

God... Sam had trouble stopping the tears. It had to have been taken just before she died.

"Samantha Carter was your Mom?" Sam asked.

Charlie nodded. This Sam hadn't expected. When Jack had mentioned his son, she had immediately assumed that he was with Sara. Sam couldn't imagine herslef having been married so young, or having a child that was almost a man.

"They never found her body," Charlie ventured, hope in his voice. And all Sam could offer him was cold denial. This wasn't a world with ascension or Goa'uld sarcophagi. This wasn't a world where people could come back from the dead. When that shuttle crashed Samantha wouldn't have been beamed up by the Asgard. She was gone.

"I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry," Sam said.

She wished she had the right to take the boy in her arms, and comfort him, just a little. She wished that she had the right to tell him why this was happening.

"It's okay," he shrugged, "I just thought maybe... "

His apparent bravado didn't fool Sam for a second. She knew that she'd broken the boy's heart... crushed his hopes. This should never have happened. She should never have been put in a position so close to the life of the other Samantha and when she found out who was responsible she was going to... Charlie was on his feet and heading for the door.

"Wait, I'll drive you home," Sam offered, but he was gone before she finished speaking.

It was only as she heard the outer door slam that she realised that she was still clutching the photo.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack didn't know why he was here. He didn't want to date... he wasn't ready to date. He'd only called Ms. Johnson in a pathetic attempt to prove a point to his son. Somehow a drink had become dinner and he was now sitting in some posh restaurant trying to decide which fork to use.

Kerry wasn't even his type.

She was doing most of the talking and Jack was reduced to making comments in what he thought were appropriate places. It had been years since he had been on a date and what skills he might have had were more than a little rusty. Perhaps he was just getting old, but it hadn't seemed this difficult with Sam. Seeing that other Samantha Carter had brought it all back, ripped open wounds that had just started to heal. And here he was, trying to make polite conversation with a woman he had no interest in. He took what he hoped was a surreptitious look at his watch. They'd already been here for two hours and Jack was hard pushed to recall the last time he had watched anyone eat a dessert this slowly.

Deep down, Jack knew that his dissatisfaction wasn't Kerry's fault. She was doing her best to be bright and attractive, but ultimately she would always fail because she wasn't the woman he wanted her to be. When Sam had died, he had honestly believed that he would never fall in love again, and this disaster of a date was more than enough to convince him. He had that doubt in his mind that she saw him as some kind of hard luck case... and she wouldn't be the first. Jack had achieved a certain amount of notoriety as a result of what had happened to his wife but his fifteen minutes of fame had been brought at a terrible price. It went without saying that he'd rather have Sam at his side than his face on the cover of People magazine. When Paris Hilton called to offer her condolences, you just knew you were doing something wrong.

Sam had been special. There was no doubt about that. The first time he had seen her he had known. Instant attraction. Not because she was dressed up, or trying to make a good impression, but because she had been bawling some airman out for not taking a female officer seriously. Jack had actually felt kind of sorry for the poor guy who was clearly out of his depth. Desert BDUs, no make-up, hair all over the place, Sam had hardly been the USAF pin-up girl but there had been something about her... Jack felt himself smile.

"Jack?"

Kerry's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" he said, trying to sound interested.

"I was telling you about my dead dog and you were grinning."

"Oh."

She reached out a hand and touched him lightly on the arm, "I was joking about the dog," she said gently.

But she hadn't been joking about his inattention.

"You must have loved her very much," she went on.

Jack nodded, unable to put his feelings into words. He didn't like to discuss Sam with anyone. If he were honest with himself, he could barely talk to his son never mind a complete stranger. Kerry was just another person who wanted to dig beneath the surface of Jack O'Neill. She didn't realise that what she saw was what she got. He didn't pretend. If he kept his emotions on the inside, it was because he wanted them that way. God knew that he'd had enough practise. When the world watches your wife's funeral you have to keep it together. Receiving that flag on the Whitehouse lawn had been difficult but he was almost proud of the sang-froid he had been able to display. Would have been if it hadn't been for the child who had been crying at his side. Charlie still couldn't understand why his father hadn't seemed sad that day.

"Do you want me to take you back to the hotel?" Jack offered. Some sixth sense was telling him that this date was over. Kerry was rooting in her purse for some bills which she proceeded to place on the table.

"Don't worry," she smiled, "I'll get a cab."

Before Jack could protest, she was gone and he was left in the restaurant, the centre of unwanted attention. He left enough money to cover the bill, plus a hefty tip, and got out of there as fast as he could.

Despite himself, Jack could help feeling a profound sense of failure as he let himself back into his darkened house. Moving on was just something that happened to other people, he told himself somewhat ruefully. There was a light on in Charlie's room and Jack stuck his head around the door before going to his own bed. His son was sprawled on the floor, head phones clamped to his ears, he didn't even look up as his Dad came in. Jack wanted to say something, but he couldn't. In the end he just shut the door and walked away.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam debated long and hard about the photo. On the one hand, she had an address and she could have posted it back, but on the other... She was worried about Charlie. He may not have been her biological son, but she couldn't help feeling a connection. She wanted to see for herself that he was okay and hadn't done anything stupid. It went without saying that he hadn't been near the auto-shop in recent weeks. For some strange reason Sam missed seeing him.

However, the one thing that she didn't want was a confrontation with Jack. She still couldn't quite understand his reaction to seeing her in the Arctic wastes. At first she'd thought that he was a better actor than she gave him credit for. Now, re-running events in her mind, there had been something about his eyes, some trace of recognition that hinted at the pain he must have been experiencing. It was no wonder that he had avoided seeing her again. Sam knew that she didn't have the right to go crashing into his life, but there was the question of Charlie...

This wasn't the first time she had sat in a car outside of an O'Neill residence, Sam thought to herself with a certain amount of irony. It was early afternoon and, if this general was anything like her Jack, he wouldn't be back from work yet. Charlie should be home from school any moment. She wanted a glimpse of the boy, nothing more. Just enough to convince herself that he was okay, then she would drop the photo in the mailbox and go on her way. However, the longer she waited the more anxious she became. No one came near the house. Mid week, mid semester, it was unlikely that father and son had decided to take a little fishing trip.

It was only as the Sun set that Sam realised someone had been home all along. There was no blaze of electronic light, but she could make out the glow of a TV in one of the front rooms. Almost without meaning to, Sam got out of the car and walked to the window. Jack was inside. Sprawled in front of the TV, several empty Guinness bottles lay scattered around. There was a pizza box in front of him, but Sam could see that not much of it had been eaten. His eyes were blank, devoid of anything resembling thought or feeling. Sam had never seen him look quite so lost... quite so alone. She glanced at the photo in her hand and realised that it could wait for another time. Treading as quietly as she could, Sam started to move away from the window. Whether she made some kind of noise, or whether it was just Jack's innate sixth sense but as soon as she started to move he looked up. Their eyes met.

Sam found herself transfixed by his gaze. At the back of her mind was the thought that if she stayed very very still then maybe he would think that she was some kind of hallucination and turn away. Then she wondered if she shouldn't just run. Before she could make a decision, Jack had pushed himself off of the couch and Sam knew that she was going to have to face him. The front door opened and he was standing there. With trembling fingers, Sam held out the photo,

"I thought Charlie might want this back," she said.

"How do you know my son?" Jack asked.

The tone of voice was one she recognised. It was the inflection he usually used before threatening to shoot someone in the head.

"I fixed your car," Sam replied by way of explanation.

It seemed he didn't need anymore. Reaching into his pocket, Jack pulled out his cellphone and Sam knew that he was about to put a call through to his superiors. Despite her initial dissatisfaction Sam knew that she didn't want to leave this place. She had worked hard to build a life for herself here and she didn't want to start again.

"Sir, don't," she pleaded with him. "I'll stay away, I promise."

"But Charlie won't."

Sam dropped her eyes in shame. He was right. Charlie had sought her out once and whilst she was so close he would be tempted to do so again.

"What, you thought he'd lost one Mom so I'd just go out and get him another one exactly the same?"

"I didn't think," she muttered.

"No you didn't. If you'd have thought you never would have got on that damn shuttle in the first place."

Sam stared at him in horror, momentarily lost for words. How many beers had Jack had? She knew that, given the choice, Jack would never have let her see him this way. Sam realised that she must have blundered into an intensely private moment. It was doubtful that Charlie was even here. Walking away was probably her best option right now, but Sam didn't want to leave him in this condition. Seeing her wouldn't be helping what appeared to be his fragile state of mind.

"I don't think Charlie is the one having a problem with this," she told him, "come on."

Taking him by the elbow, Sam led him back into the house and shut the door. If he was going to carry on yelling at her it was better he did it out of sight and earshot of the neighbours. He shook free of her grasp as soon as the door was closed and stumbled back to the TV. Curious, Sam followed him.

"Oh God," Sam breathed when she saw the picture on the screen.

Jack must have been watching the recorded footage when he noticed her outside the window. The paused image on the screen was enough to bring tears to her eyes. The Intrepid was terrifying in her grace and beauty. The frozen picture had caught the shuttle just after launch. The external fuel tank and the solid booster rockets were still attached. Even though she was not an astronaut, Sam knew that when all three main engines failed then the solid booster rockets would have given enough thrust an manoeuvrability to allow the craft to continue its ascent until bail out. Without the benefit of the autopilot Samantha must have kept the Intrepid in a stable glide and blown the hatch allowing the rest of her crew to parachute back to Earth. After that... Sam just hoped that it had been quick.

At first Sam couldn't understand why Jack was torturing himself in this way. Now she wondered if it wasn't some attempt to convince himself that his wife was gone... or to remind himself that she had once existed.

"I'd like you to leave now," Jack said, not looking at her.

"Were you there?" Sam asked.

"Don't pretend like you understand," he snapped back. He was on his feet again, swaying slightly, his face inches from her.

"I understand," she said. "Better than you'll ever know."

This Jack seemed to think he had some kind of patent on grief, and but he wasn't the only one who had watched his loved one die. Sam was back in that hall watching the light in her Jack's eyes fade... And suddenly she was crying. Mitchell had needed her in the here and now. Sam had obeyed that order to the best of her ability but this was harder than she'd ever expected it to be. She had prided herself on her control only to lose it in the most embarrassing way possible.

"What the hell do you want?" Jack demanded, his anger tinged by confusion. Sam sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve.

"I watched you die, Jack. I felt your heart stop and the breath leave your body... so don't tell me that I don't understand."

The last thing she had wanted was to break down in front of him. But her grief was still too new, too raw to contain. The months of holding it all in had taken their toll and now she couldn't stop crying... it was either that or hit him. She was so damn angry at his treatment of her. Sam glared at him, daring him to comment but the only words he offered were,

"C'mere."

Amazed by the unguarded tenderness in his expression Sam stepped into his arms and let him hold her. It was wrong but she needed him... just for a little while.


	7. Chapter 7

Waking up wasn't a comfortable experience. Someone else's house, someone else's rules... Sam felt it keenly as she crept down the hallway, shoes in hand attempting to get out of Jack's house before he woke up and remembered that he had an unwelcome guest. Sam knew that she never should have accepted that first beer. Jack had never been comfortable with emotional scenes and as soon as she had stopped crying he had offered her a drink... mostly, she suspected, because he couldn't think of anything to say.

Sitting on the couch next to Jack, not talking, drinking beer had to rate as one of the most uncomfortable experiences of her life... It was right up there with Narim's computer voice and introducing Pete to her Dad. After the display of raw emotion, both of them had been so lost in their own memories that communication had become impossible. When it became obvious that Sam wasn't going to be able to drive home, Jack had done the honourable thing and offered her his bed.

Sam felt like she hadn't slept at all. She'd laid in his bed, staring at the ceiling and tried to pas the time as she waited for the effects of the alcohol to fade. What made it worse were the things in his room that she recognised. There was a Major Matt Mason doll tucked away in the corner of the bookshelf, a pHD thesis by one Samantha Carter, a patchwork quilt on the bed... the ghost of the other woman was everywhere. And Sam had to admit that she was jealous. Samantha seemed to have had everything... except life. She and Jack should have been able to grow old together.

As soon as the Sun rose, Sam knew that it was time to leave. But she'd forgotten one important fact... however early she got up there was someone who always managed to rise earlier.

"Going somewhere?"

He was standing behind her, dressed in nothing more than shorts and a USAF T-shirt, his grey hair sticking up in all directions. Momentarily dumbstruck, Sam could do nothing more than nod.

"At least let me make you coffee?"

"I have to work," Sam replied.

"At 6AM?"

"We open early."

"Blueberry pancakes?"

"Blueberry...?"

Jack dropped his eyes and Sam realised that he must have offered her one of his wife's favourite foods.

"Sir," she cut him off, but he had the grace to look embarrassed when he realised what he'd done. Sam didn't even like blueberries.

"Right... look Colonel Carter, I'm just trying to say thank you."

She wasn't certain what he was thanking her for. All she'd managed to do was blunder into his life and turn it upside down. If he appreciated her being there last night, she couldn't understand why. Just seeing her must have been like a knife in the guts.

'You're welcome," she smiled. "but I really have to go."

It was a lie and they both knew it. Acknowledging her decision with a nod, Jack started to turn away only for Sam to stop him. She hated to ask, but she realised that there was something he could do for her.

"Sir, if you get the chance, could you check up on Mitchell and Daniel? I don't want to know where they are, I just need to know they're okay."

"I can do that. Daniel... was he the guy that lost his leg?"

"Yeah. He can't be having it easy."

"Consider it done."

"Thank you."

This was the Jack that Sam knew. The man who would always go that extra mile to help his friends and suddenly she was finding it very difficult to leave. The way he was looking at her, concern rapidly giving way to confusion, was achingly familiar. He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. The intimacy implied by the gesture made Sam catch her breath.

"Bad idea?" Jack asked.

"Very," Sam agreed, trying her best not to respond to the caress. She was aching for his touch.

"I miss her."

"I know."

"I just wish..."

But instead of finishing the sentence he shrugged and turned away, giving Sam the opportunity to leave. It was only when she was on the other side of the closed door that Sam replied.

"I do too, sir, I do too," she whispered to herself.

Wrapping her arms about herself to ward of the sudden chill, Sam hurried towards her car.


	8. Chapter 8

Finding Jackson and Mitchell had been easy. Just a few questions asked in the right places and two hours swearing at his computer had been enough, however Jack hadn't been able to let it go at that. At least not as far as Daniel was concerned. Sam was right in that the guy was probably having more trouble adjusting than the rest of them. She'd been worried about her friend and Jack knew that he'd never forgive himself if he didn't check in person. Besides, he had to admit that he was curious about the man who purported to be his best friend.

Academics always set his teeth on edge. Even being married to one hadn't quite cured him of his aversion to intellectuals. The feelings were completely illogical. Jack knew that he was at least as smart as most of them. He had his degree, he just hadn't taken it any further. Perhaps that was what bothered him, that maybe he hadn't fulfilled his own academic potential. He admitted that there were times he played dumb but most of the white coats he encountered treated him like he was some kind of idiot. Too late to be worrying about that now, he realised as the cab drew up in front of Dr. Jackson's apartment building.

"You might as well wait," he told the driver. Jack had no intention of making this a long visit.

He had to hang around a while before Jackson answered the buzzer and there was a telling silence when Jack announced his name. He was slightly surprised to find that the apartment wasn't on the ground floor... and that the elevator didn't seem to be working.

"Your tax dollars at work," he muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs.

The door to Jackson's apartment was open, but Jack didn't really feel welcome as he stepped over the threshold. Even though the Sun was shining outside, the blinds were shut and the rooms were in semi-darkness. There wasn't much in the way of furniture... and what kind of person didn't own a TV? There were books though, books covering just about every available surface. It was clear how Dr. Jackson was spending his time. Jack still didn't know what he thought about these people and their story. Even Sam's presence wasn't enough to totally convince him... he still found himself searching for an explanation that was less whacko. He hadn't ruled out the twin sister theory.

"Hello?" Jack called out.

Jackson appeared from what Jack assumed was the bedroom. Leaning heavily on a cane, he didn't look at all comfortable with his prosthetic limb. Jack tried his best not to stare at it, but he found himself looking at a spot on the wall just behind Jackson's left ear... which somehow made it worse.

"Surprise?" Jack said, breaking the heavy silence.

"You could say that."

Limping past him, Jackson went to the kitchen and pulled a couple of beers out of the fridge. He passed one to Jack and opened the other himself.

"I can't stay," Jack said.

"Then why did you come?"

"Sam asked me to."

"Sam... you've seen her?"

"Turns out she practically lives next door."

Jack didn't tell him the rest. There was only so much of his life that he was willing to lay before this man. He already had the feeling that Jackson knew far too much about him. All that stuff about Charlie... okay so it had been wrong, but Jack had kept a gun in his house when Charlie had been younger and one day he had found his son playing with it. He could have so easily become the Jack that Daniel knew.

"How is she? What's she doing? Where is she?" The man was talking a mile a minute.

"Fine. Fixing cars... and I can't tell you the last part. Look were you and she...?"

He didn't know what made him ask the question. There was something about the way Jackson spoke about Sam that aroused Jack's curiosity. Under any other circumstances he might have described the feeling as jealousy. But it couldn't be... could it? The Sam Carter they were talking about was not Jack's wife and he had to keep reminding himself of that fact.

"No, we were just friends. Why?" Jackson replied.

"Nothing. Look my cab's waiting I should..."

Gesturing to the door, Jack started to edge towards it, suddenly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. Not for the first time, he questioned the wisdom of coming here. Now he had seen that Jackson was coping with his new life Jack's conscience was clear and he could leave.

"Wait... wait," Jackson told him as he scrabbled around for paper and a pen. He scribbled a number on the sheet and handed it to Jack.

"I'm sure this is against the rules," Jack said.

"And when have you ever cared about that?"

"Good point."

"Just in case she ever needs me."

Folding up the paper, Jack tucked it into his jeans pocket. The thought of Sam calling Jackson was making him nervous. Somehow Jack hoped that she'd come to him first. There was that feeling again. It wasn't something he wanted. Not now. Not after everything that he'd been through when his wife died. He couldn't do this, Jack realised. Sam had already induced him to fly halfway across the country to check up on his 'best friend'. Being involved with these people wasn't good for his psyche.

"I probably won't see you around," Jack heard himself growl as he headed for the door. Great. Now he was taking out his frustration on a guy with only one leg.

"Jack."

"What?"

"One more thing."

"And again I ask... what?"

"Just for the record, there was one rule you refused to break."

"Jackson...?"

"The frat regs... don't make the same mistake this time."


	9. Chapter 9

Winter came early that year. It seemed like one day Sam was walking through fallen leaves and the next there was snow on the ground. It had been two months since she had heard from Jack. The last time he had sent her a card with Cameron's address and Daniel's phone number... at least she assumed that the message had been from Jack. The card hadn't been signed.

Sam knew that she shouldn't have expected anything more, but sometimes she wondered...

The coming of winter made her life as it was seem even more depressing. There had been a time when she had found such cold exhilarating, but now the short days and long nights only added to her sense of isolation. Thanksgiving had passed, the Christmas holidays weren't far away and Sam felt lonelier than ever. Knowing where the others were didn't help. Her family was there but she couldn't reach out to them. The weekends were the worst. During the week, working at the garage was enough to keep her busy. She worked as late as Ned would let her and when she got home she was usually too tired to do anything other than eat and sleep. Saturday and Sunday were a different matter and Sam really had to force herself to get up in the mornings. Making friends was difficult for someone who had been ordered to keep a low profile. She found herself spending a lot of time at the library, museums, art galleries... anywhere that she could hide in a crowd.

A matinee of La Boheme probably wasn't the most upbeat choice for a cold Saturday afternoon but it seemed to be the only show in town. Settling into her seat, Sam flicked through the program and turned to the plot synopsis. It meant very little to her. Somehow, after everything she'd seen and done she couldn't imagine that viewing this tragedy performed on stage would have much of an emotional impact. Even so, she found herself vaguely annoyed when, just as the lights went down, a tall man found his seat... directly in front of Sam. She found herself having to twist her neck at an unusual angle in order to see the stage. What made it worse was that the couple next to him were so tightly entwined around each other that she couldn't even peer through the gap.

The costumes were superb and the music beautiful, but Sam spent the entire first act fuming to herself. Yet, when the lights went up any protest she might have made died on her lips. The man's face was as familiar as her own. Sam, hadn't meant to say anything, hoping that hiding behind her program would provide a disguise however her voice betrayed her and the word, "Sir," was torn from her lips before she managed to curb her instinctive response.

He turned around immediately, his face registering shock and a certain amount of embarrassment. But all Sam could think about was how good he looked in his jacket and tie and she couldn't stop herself plunging headfirst into the gap in the conversation.

"It was nice seeing you again ... Now if you'll excuse me I have to go to the ladies room."

She spent the interval in the bathroom, not understanding why she was suddenly scared to be with him. When she finally re-took her seat, the overture had already began and Jack turned around,

"Are you okay?" he mouthed.

Sam managed to reply with a nod and a smile. Even, so she was counting the minutes until the performance was over and she could escape. When the final applause rang out Sam hurriedly gathered her coat and purse but her attempt at a graceful exit was completely destroyed when she tripped over her own feet as she was walking towards the back of the auditorium. She hoped she imagined the shout of laughter that accompanied her klutzy demonstration.

Outside in the street, Sam took deep breaths of the cold air. The winter light was already fading. There wasn't a cab in sight and resolutely, Sam started to walk. She knew that if she waited outside of the theatre there was a chance that Jack would come looking for her... or maybe not. If she were honest with herself, Sam didn't know what he'd do or even how he felt about her. In the brief time they had spent together, she had found herself thinking that he hated her because she wasn't his wife... Or that, just maybe, there had been a moment when they had made a connection.

"Taxi!" she called out, her voice sounding hoarse with cold. Sam swore to herself as the cab drove past without so much as slowing down. An icy wind seemed to have sprung up from nowhere, bringing the promise of more snow. Sam pulled her coat tightly around her body, wishing that she hadn't dressed up for the theatre. Her feet and hands were already numb. It wasn't the Arctic and logically knew that she wasn't really in danger of dying of exposure but Sam wasn't in the mood for rational thinking.

After the fifth cab had ignored her, she started to walk for the bus. Head down, she didn't notice the dark truck draw up beside her... at least until the driver called out her name. She looked up.

"Get in before you freeze." It was almost an order.

It was the last thing Sam wanted to do, but she was cold, uncomfortable and realised that even if she caught the bus she would still have a long walk at the end of the journey. Knowing that she would probably live to regret it, she climbed into the cab of Jack's truck. Sitting in the passenger seat, Sam found that she had no idea what to say to him. So far her behaviour had been vaguely bizarre.

"How's Charlie?" she began rather tentatively as he pulled away from the sidewalk.

"Good... he's good... staying with his grandparents this weekend."

"That's nice."

"Yeah. He can't get enough of Jacob's war stories."

Sam bit her lip and hoped that Jack didn't see her reaction to the sound of her father's name. Luckily, he was concentrating on the traffic and not on her face. Snow had started falling thick and fast. Ahead of them, Sam could see brake lights flashing on as the traffic ground to a halt.

"This could take a while," Jack said.

Suddenly glad that she wasn't walking the streets, Sam leaned forward and turned the heating up another notch. Jack looked at her seeming slightly bemused by her familiarity.

"I'm sorry," Sam quickly, apologised. She had momentarily forgotten who's truck she was sitting in.

"Warm enough now?" he asked.

"Yes thank you."

"For a woman who walks the arctic wastes..."

"I'm wimp, I know."

Her response roused a laugh and Sam found herself relaxing a little more. Actually this wasn't so bad, she realised. He was just helping her out and there was no way he could have known that she would be at the theatre that afternoon. Their meeting was nothing more than a coincidence and one she was glad of. It was nice to spend some time with a familiar face. Without meaning to, she found herself falling back into a pattern of easy banter and flashing smiles. The earlier awkwardness seemed to have vanished with the winter Sun. Sam was almost sorry when they finally got back across the river and drew up in front of her apartment.

"Thank you," she said when he'd stopped the truck.

"Always," Jack replied.

And Sam realised it was true, wherever she was, whatever Universe she found herself in, whenever the fates brought them together... Jack was there for her. She was sick and tired of fighting this. He was there, beside her and Sam couldn't contemplate pushing him away again.

"Sam... if I don't leave now I'm not going to," he said breaking the drawn out silence.

"Then stay," she replied.


	10. Chapter 10

There were times that Jack felt as if he always woke up in a bed that wasn't his own. Another generic room in another generic building. It could have been in almost an city... in almost any part of the world. God knew, but he'd seen enough of them. As he lay there he found his gaze drawn towards the window. The curtains were open and he could see that the snow was still falling from the darkened sky. Carefully, he climbed out of bed and moved to the window. His truck was barely visible in the street below, entombed as it was by the snow. The morning would bring the ploughs through but for now, Jack was looking out over a still white world. He couldn't have driven home even if he'd wanted to.

"Then stay," Sam had told him.

Even though Jack had wanted to hear those words, he had still found himself hesitating before following her out of the truck. The snow had already been thick on the sidewalk, and Sam had slipped a little as she walked. Jack had caught her before she could fall and, with his arm still about her waist, they had walked into her apartment building.

Jack still couldn't understand what was happening here. Having this Sam around was confusing him more than any technobabble and he wondered exactly who was using who? They were both lonely people. even though Jack had Charlie, the kid had his own life. Now he had settled in at school, Charlie barely seemed to be at home. And Jack was finding that being the commander of a base wasn't all it was cracked up to be. The loneliness of command might have been a cliché but it was one that he seemed to be living by. Jack was the boss, the man... he had the desk and the parking space but he missed the camaraderie that went with being 'one of the guys'. As he got older, Jack had to admit that he didn't make friends as easily as he used to.

Why else would he have chosen to spend a lonely afternoon at the theatre? Except Sam had been there and Jack felt like his whole world was on the verge of coming apart. He wasn't used to feeling this uncertain about anything. Jack knew himself to be a man of action, someone who could make a decision in a moment... Why then was he leaving a warm bed wondering if he shouldn't brave the snow and just get out of there? Before he could make up his mind, the figure still in the bed stirred. Dishevelled blonde hair, sleepy blue eyes... the picture was achingly familiar.

"Awkward?" she questioned.

"Getting there," he replied.

"If you want to go..."

"Bit of a problem."

"What?"

Taking Sam's hand, Jack drew her to the window. He thought he caught the trace of a smile when she saw the snow. She knew that he would be forced to stay until morning.

"So... what do you want to do?"he asked.

She just looked at him. Given their state of undress Jack had the urge to shout, 'He's not the messiah, he's a very naughty boy,' but he managed to control himself, sensing that a Monty Python moment wouldn't be appreciated. Her expression softened slightly.

"I don't want to be alone," she admitted.

Jack nodded. This he could understand.

"And I want to sleep."

"That I can do," he said.

With an unspoken acknowledgement they returned to the bed. Sam lay on her side and Jack curled up behind her, but she didn't close her eyes. It was strange, he realised, knowing and not knowing this woman. The differences in her body were probably the most obvious ones. The scars he had never seen before. Unconsciously, he found himself tracing a particularly nasty one with his fingertips. He realised that, if her story about fighting aliens was true, then she'd probably seen more combat than he had.

"That must have hurt," he said.

"Yeah. We were defending a village from the Ori on a planet somewhere...," she waved her hand in what he supposed was the approximate direction of the other world.

"What happened?"

"I made the village disappear."

Jack started to laugh until he realised that she was perfectly serious. This woman had seen things that he couldn't even begin to imagine and he felt the gulf between them widen. He wondered if she too would leave for a chance to 'quit her sphere and rush into the skies'.

"It'll never be enough for you, will it?" he began.

"What?"

"One planet, one galaxy."

She rolled over to face him.

"I don't know, this has it's compensations." she smiled. "And I knew that I would have to give it up eventually. It's just..."

"What?"

"There's so much out there, Jack. So much that I've seen and touched. But it's all locked in my head and they won't let me help. Stronger materials, clean power sources, advances in nanotechnology that you wouldn't believe...I'm not even allowed to teach..."

At last he was able to understand the real source of her frustration. Sam was being denied the real passion in her life. Gently, Jack brushed the hair away from her face.

"Let me see if I can do something about that."


	11. Chapter 11

Jack drove home with every intention of going into work Monday morning and persuading his superiors that Sam could be a valuable asset to the USAF. Area 51 would kill to have someone of her talent in command. He was willing to take it as far as the President if he had to. Charlie would also be home soon, and Jack was eager to see his son. There was so much on his mind that he didn't take much notice of the black sedan that was parked across the street from his house. But he quickly paid attention when the car door slammed and a man in uniform followed him to the front door.

There were some people that Jack hated on sight. He liked to think that his instincts were good and, in truth, he was usually right 90 of the time. As he watched the man walk up the path, Jack had the feeling that he would be right on this occasion too. For some reason the man's overconfident swagger set Jack's teeth on edge. The insignia on his uniform was that of a Colonel, and even though he was of a lower rank, Jack knew that his visitor had orders that he would have no choice but to obey.

"Something I can do for you Colonel ... ?" Jack asked, stressing the man's lower rank.

"Harry Maybourne and I don't believe that we've had the pleasure."

Jack ignored the hand that was offered. He wasn't about to shake hands with a man that he wanted to shoot.

"Can I come in?" Maybourne asked.

"No."

Maybourne stared at him for a whole two minutes, waiting it seemed for Jack to back down. But Jack had never been as dumb as he made out. He knew Maybourne's type all too well. The man was a toady, a lap dog, who got his kicks out of delivering bad news.

"Just say what you need to and then get off of my porch," Jack said.

"Straight talk... I can do that... General O'Neill, you are being transferred. effective immediately."

"What? Why?"

It didn't make sense. Jack had only been in his current post a couple of months. They wouldn't transfer him again unless...

"Oh I think you know why," Maybourne drawled. "A certain young lady who goes by the name of Tiffany?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Age catching up with you General O'Neill? Let's see if we can jog your memory."

Maybourne handed over a brown envelope. The pictures had been taken outside of Sam's house and Jack cursed himself for his rookie mistake. He should have known that they would have been watching her. Jack wondered if his visit to Daniel had been similarly observed. Of course he hadn't spent the night with Daniel...

"What if I refuse?" Jack said.

"You won't do that."

"I could just retire... then I can do whatever the hell I want."

Jack was surprised at his own words. He had never even considered retirement before. But then again, it wasn't as if he particularly liked being a general.

"Don't be so naive," Maybourne smiled, "we could make life very uncomfortable for you... and your son."

And finally Jack understood. This man, or the people that he worked for knew where to hit him hardest. Jack didn't care what they might do to him, but he'd die before he let them hurt Charlie.

"You rat bastard," he spat. "No choice."

"No choice... I think you'll like your new posting. I believe the summers are beautiful... the winter though... better pack your thermals."

Maybourne left with a smile on his face and a spring in his step. The slimy little worm had actually enjoyed screwing up Jack's life. Jack watched him go with a heavy heart. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to his son. Charlie would demand an explanation as to why they were moving away so soon and Jack couldn't tell him about Sam. He couldn't even risk contacting her, not now that he knew she was being watched. Even his own house seemed strange and unfriendly ... the place had probably been bugged in his absence. Maybourne and his cronies would want to make sure that Jack was being a good boy.

It wouldn't take long to pack up and move. Half their stuff was still in boxes from the last time. Jack had spent most of his adult life moving from place to place... he was used to it, but he hated to inflict it on his son. Never one to take things lying down, he tried to contact his superiors and argue his case, but the only person available to speak to him was some Major Davis, who was apologetic to the point of being annoying. The powers that be were definitely running scared, and Jack had no idea why. What did they think Sam would do? Or was it the thought of himself and Sam together that frightened them? He suspected that he would never find out.

The sound of the front door slamming signalled that Charlie was home.

"Dad!" his voice called out.

He sounded happy, excited and Jack found himself lurking in the kitchen rather than going to greet his son.

"Dad? Dad... what is it?"

Jack turned to face Charlie. There wasn't an easy way to do this, he was just going to have to cut to the chase.

"I've been reassigned," he said.

"Why?" Charlie demanded.

"Because I screwed up."

There was no other explanation Jack could give. At least he was being honest and Charlie knew enough not to ask too many questions... but the disappointment was etched on his face. Jack braced himself for an argument, for the accusations that he was sure would follow. Perhaps Charlie sensed the truth in his father's tone, or perhaps he was also glad to be getting out of here, but the expected verbal explosion never arose.

"When?" was all he asked.

"Effective immediately."

"Then we'd better start packing."

Turning his back, Charlie headed out of sthe room. Jack wanted to go after him, but he knew that there was nothing else to say. He'd lost Sam and he couldn't risk losing his son as well.


	12. Chapter 12

He was gone.

Sam didn't believe it at first. She waited a week for him to call, and then another. At first she thought that Jack was simply a victim of boy time, then she wondered if she had done something wrong and pushed him too far, too fast. But as two weeks stretched into three, Sam started to get worried. It was the 'Frooties' that really set her off. She'd seen them in the supermarket and bought a box so that Jack would have something he liked to eat. They sat in her cupboard untouched. A constant reminder. Even if she threw them in the trash, Sam would still know that they'd been there.

She wanted to give him time and space... and not seem like stalker woman. Even so, three weeks later, she 'happened' to be driving through his neighbourhood and 'accidentally' turned down his street. The last thing she expected to find was an empty house and a for sale sign. She stopped the car outside wondering if she hadn't made a mistake. But no, it was definitely the right address. When she got home, Sam contacted the realtor but all he told her was the house had suddenly come onto the market. He knew nothing about what had happened to its occupants and Sam was forced to accept the fact that Jack and Charlie were gone.

And yet something didn't seem right. Jack, at least the man she knew, would never have gone without leaving some kind of message even if it was nothing more than a 'Dear Jane' letter. There was, however, one person who would definitely know where he was. However, Sam thought long and hard before tracking down Jacob Carter. Jack wouldn't have cut off Charlie from his grandfather. Finding him wasn't difficult but even when she had the phone number, Sam hesitated before calling him. She remembered how difficult her relationship with her father had been. And what would she say? Even if she pretended to be someone else, there was a chance that he would recognise her voice. There was no logical reason she could think of for asking about his grandson... not without sounding like a crazy person. No, if she were going to do this it had to be face to face. She had to tell him the truth. He deserved that much. Jacob Carter had a finely tuned bullshit detector. He would know that she was spinning him a line. She hadn't expected him to be alive in this world. Without the Tok'ra intervention, lymphoma would have claimed his life and she had assumed the same would be true in this reality. Something else must have changed.

Before she could change her mind Sam picked up her car keys and left her apartment.

She drove straight to her father's house. Four hours without a break... and then she sat outside, too scared to walk up the path and knock on the door. It was a lovely house. A quiet street on the edge of a small town, just the place for a General who was enjoying his retirement. There was a park not too far away. Somewhere for Jacob to take his grandson fishing. The longer she sat in the car the more Sam realised that maybe this had been a mistake. Did she really have the right to screw up this man's life? It was clear that she'd already managed to have a ruinous effect on Jack's.

To clear her head, she went for a walk in the park. Under a blue winter sky, Sam felt invigorated rather than depressed by the cold. There was still snow on the ground but it had frozen hard, bringing back memories of childhood sledging expeditions. Sliding down a hill on a sledge her grandfather had made, wind in her face and feeling like she could go one forever. Sam had thought that she would be the only one there on a cold winter's afternoon in the middle of the week. But when a large golden retriever came bounding towards her, she realised that someone was sharing her solitude. Bending down, she petted the dog. It had a collar and a name tag so she knew that it belonged to someone.

"Barney!" A woman's voice shouted out.

The dog perked up at the sound of it's name and with a last lick of her hand bounded away from Sam. Curious, she followed. But as soon as she saw the dog's owner she wished that she'd stayed safely hidden. Sometimes Sam had wondered if her memories hadn't faded with time but faced with the reality there was no mistaking the woman standing before her. Older now, her once golden hair was grey, and she wore glasses not unlike Sam's own. And if Sam had any illusions that she might not be recognised they were shattered as soon as their eyes met.

"Sam!" the woman exclaimed.

"I'm sorry you must have mistaken me for someone else," Sam protested as she made an attempt to walk away. She wanted nothing more than to run into her mother's arms and cry like a small child. Grandparents... Jack had told her that Charlie had been staying with his grandparents and Sam had been so focussed on the fact that her dad was alive that she'd completely missed the use of the plural. Now, faced with the reality, she had no idea what to do. Turning, Sam started to walk away, but Ellen Carter wasn't to be denied. The older woman hurried after her. Barney seemed to think this was some kind of new game. Reaching Sam first, he started bounding around her feet forcing her to slow down. Sam had no choice but to stop and face her mother.

"It is you," Ellen breathed.

"No... no it's not." Sam said, " I know what you're thinking but I'm not her."

She grasped the other woman's gloved hands in her own, "Your daughter could never have survived the Shuttle accident, you have to know that."

"Then who are you?"

"An accident. I shouldn't even be here."

Sam was already regretting her foolishness. When Jack had disappeared she should have just let him be.

"I... I knew your grandson. I just wanted to make sure that he was all right," she attempted to explain.

"He's fine," the other woman said, "settling in at the new school. I wish sometimes that Jack would stop moving him around."

"Good, good, I'm glad that he's okay. And Jack?"

"Jack is... well Jack."

Sam couldn't help smiling at her mother's choice of words.

"That's good to know," Sam said.

"Look are you sure that you're not...."

"Yes. My mom died," Sam cut Ellen off. This had to stop now. She was putting her mother at risk just by having this conversation. Sam smiled at the older woman, trying to remember every detail of her beautiful face.

"I have to go," she said eventually, starting to walk away before her mother noticed the tears in her eyes,

"Don't you want to know where they are?" Ellen offered.

"No... no I don't," Sam shouted in return.

This was the way it had to be, Sam realised. She couldn't be a part of this family. That place belonged to the other Sam Carter, the one who'd had a husband and a child. She strode away as quickly as she could, doing her best not to break into a run, doing her best not to look back.


	13. Chapter 13

It wasn't easy. None of this could ever be described as easy but Samantha Carter had once had a life without Jack O'Neill and she would again. At least that was what she told herself every morning and night. She wished that she could believe her own words. He'd been such an intimate part of her world for so long that Sam was having a hard time letting him go. Her half-hearted attempt to look for him had almost ended in disaster and Sam didn't try again. At the back of her mind was the fear that, if she pushed too hard, her parents might be the next to 'disappear'.

It was hard, but gradually Sam let her days fall back into routine...

... and then the Goa'uld came.

Whilst the rest of the population trembled with fear, Sam's first instinct was anger. The warnings had been ignored and now they were facing an enemy the likes of which Earth was simply not prepared for. Suddenly, it seemed like Colonel Carter was back. She wasn't going to take this lying down. Not anymore. Those that had put her in this position had no idea of the threat they were facing, but this time Sam was going to make sure that someone listened.

Even amongst the fear and the worry, Sam still felt a rush of joy when she was finally reunited with her friends. They looked well. Even Daniel, although he walked with a limp that was his permanent legacy of their arrival here. Understandably he was the one who was most bitter at their treatment. Although he agreed to help it was not without angry words.

The underground command centre was a hive of activity but Sam had the feeling that no one really knew what they were doing, or how to respond to this threat from the skies. It soon became clear as to the reason why they had been brought here. President Hayes expected them to pull his butt out of the fire. They had a non-operational Stargate, an equally depleted ZPM... All SG-1 had to do was steal a scout ship, fly half way across the Galaxy, find a ZPM, bring it back again and find someone who could operate the Ancient chair.

Easy.

Of course, during that time they had to hope that the Goa'uld didn't choose to wipe out every human being on the planet. Although the fact that Ba'al hadn't attacked straight away seemed to suggest that he had something else in mind. What had Daniel said? Death, slavery, more slavery, more death... it sounded about right.

Sam sincerely wished that the Navy had thought of somewhere slightly more accessible to site their Stargate program. They would be wasting precious time just getting to Antarctica.

Suddenly, Sam stopped in mid step almost causing Mitchell to run into her.

"What?" he asked.

"There's something I forgot to tell the President," she said. "We still need to identify someone who can operate the chair."

"Jack?" Daniel guessed, compassion evident in his voice.

"It's him or John Sheppard and we don't know that Sheppard exists in this reality."

"How about Dr. Beckett?" Mitchell suggested.

"Sam thing applies and he was never very ... consistent."

Sam could understand Mitchell's reluctance to involve General O'Neill, but personal feelings aside, she knew that he was the best man for the job. For a start they wouldn't need to spend as much time convincing him that this would work.

"I'll be back in a minute," she said as she hurried back the way they had come.

President Hayes was conferring with General Hammond but he looked up when Sam came dashing back into the room.

"Did you forget something, Colonel?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. It's about the chair."

"The one at the Ancient outpost in Antarctica?"

"Yes sir. Could I suggest that we contact General O'Neill?"

The two men shared a look and Sam realised that somehow they both knew about the whole sorry mess that she had gotten herself into. Or was it more than that?

"One step ahead of you there, Colonel," General Hammond said.

"Hello, Sam."

The familiar voice made her chest ache. She hesitated before turning around, just incase she was hearing things. Then, protocol be dammed, Sam found herself in his arms, being hugged so tightly that she could hardly breathe.

"I'm sorry... I'm so sorry," he whispered in her ear.

Pulling back Sam looked into his eyes. It didn't matter. None of this mattered in the face of the enemy that was currently hanging over their heads. All she cared about was the fact that he was here and he was holding her. The explanations could wait until this was over ... at least she hoped that they could. Sam shivered, feeling like someone had walked across her grave,

"Walk you out?" Jack offered.

All Sam could do was nod. His hand tangled with hers as they started on the all too short journey. Seeing who she was with, Daniel and Mitchell both hurried on ahead. There were so many things that Sam wanted to say. She wanted to know how Charlie was, where they were living ... what she had done to make them leave, but she couldn't seem to find the words. So they just walked, as slowly as they dared, until they reached the elevator that would take Sam to the surface. Leaving was suddenly so much harder. To his credit, Jack didn't tell her to be careful.

"We'll talk... when you get back?" he asked.

"Yes... yes we will," Sam smiled.

"I made a deal with the President. I promise I won't be going anywhere this time."

"This time?"

"It wasn't my choice to leave... didn't you know that?"

"No."

"Bastards," Jack muttered under his breath, "And you didn't get the letter I sent?"

"No."

Sam felt numb. All of this time she had been blaming herself. She let herself be drawn into his arms again, his kiss a promise that this wasn't the end for them.

"I think I'm falling in love with you," were his last whispered words before they separated.

Smiling, Sam laid her hand on his cheek. She didn't know how this would work out, but when she got back she was determined to make sure that they had some kind of future together...

... when she got back.

XXXXX

THE END

AN: Just wanted to say a huge thank you for all of the reviews!


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